


Kisses

by Gimmesumsuga



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Kisses, Boys Kissing, Castiel and Dean Winchester are Cute, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cute Dean, Cutesy, Dean's Freckles, Eskimo Kisses, Established Relationship, Fluff, Freckles, French Kissing, Kissing, M/M, Naked Cuddling, Pillow Talk, Post-Coital, Post-Coital Cuddling, Romantic Fluff, Shy Dean, Shy Dean Winchester, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-13
Updated: 2016-09-13
Packaged: 2018-08-14 22:31:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8031469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gimmesumsuga/pseuds/Gimmesumsuga
Summary: Castiel has never had an Eskimo kiss before. 
Just a fluffy little thought I had.





	Kisses

Dean pulls away from his lover’s lips, unhurried and smiling.  Right now he knows they’ve got all night, all the time in the world as far as he’s concerned, to just lie pressed together flush.  Legs entwined and arms draped over each other languidly.

He never knew he’d feel like this with anyone, and even if he did, hell, he wasn’t sure he’d ever allow himself to feel this way; safe, loved, home.  So vulnerable that sometimes it scares him.  

Tonight isn’t one of those darker nights.  Tonight Dean is wallowing in Cas’ warmth and light, unafraid.  

He leans close to Cas again and the others lips part, as if on instinct, eyes fluttering closed too, but the kiss he’s expecting doesn’t come.

The tip of Dean’s nose, always a shade colder than the rest of him, nudges at Castiel’s.  Presses so they smoosh a little, point on point, and as crystal blue eyes reappear Dean is rubbing his nose back and forth, side to side, his jade eyes hidden.  

“Dean,” Cas begins, voice soft, and Dean stops his to and fro motion that has the Angel so puzzled. He’s smiling shyly by the time Cas finds his tongue again, always stunned into speechlessness every time Dean regards him with such affection.  “What were you doing?”  

“An Eskimo kiss,” the Hunter explains patiently, voice husky with sleepiness that has him yawning, too. Castiel tilts his head to the side, his eyes squinting as he looks far off into the distance to consider this new found thing, Dean watching on through his one remaining open eye.  

“Why would Alaska’s indigenous people kiss that way?”  Cas questions innocently, and though he’s preoccupied by his confusion he still has the presence of mind to gently trail his fingers up and down Dean’s arm in a slow, tickling motion.  Perhaps it’s force of habit.  Now that touching between them is allowed, encouraged even, Dean can hardly keep Cas from caressing any part of exposed skin he comes across.  

Not that Dean minds.

“I don’t know, Cas,” Dean grumbles, rubbing his face into their shared pillow, trying hard to stay awake. He’s not at his best post-coitus, the pull of sleep is always too strong, no matter how much he wants to stay awake and be with the one he loves.  “It was supposed to be… cute.”  

Cas’ eyes widen marginally, flicking back to Dean’s bashful face.  

“Oh.”  The corners of Cas’ mouth turn upward, just a little, and Dean finds himself starting to blush. “Then you succeeded.”  

“You’re just sayin’ that,” Dean huffs, turning his head away and into the pillow again.  He’d always said he’s not good at chick-flick moments, he doesn’t know why he’d thought that would magically change just because he’s with Cas.  

Him and Cas.  Who’d have known? 

“It _was_ , Dean,” Castiel insists, pressing his full lips to Dean’s ear so the words blow hot into them.   He laves his tongue around the arch, down to his ear lobe, and nibbles so incessantly that Dean’s going to need round two soon if he doesn’t stop.  So much for sleep.  

“I’ve always been fond of your freckles, your Angel kisses.  Those are cute, too.”  Cas presses a lingering kiss against Dean’s flushing cheek, pressing his lips to those previously mentioned beauty spots.  “Adorable,” he purrs, and Dean feels blood rush both north and south all at once.  

He pulls his head out from where it hides to capture Cas’ mouth with his own, to shut him up, to halt Dean’s blush before it can get even fiercer.  He’s still not used to Cas’ never-ending adoration of him and the plain yet eloquent ways in which he says it.   It makes his face and heart burn in equal measure.

Dean wishes he could be so expressive in return, but words have never been his thing.  He can show him, though, with the firm press of his lips and the way he fists the back of Cas’ unruly hair to pull him closer.  Somehow he can never quite get him close enough.

Cas parts his lips, lets Dean’s tongue slide into well-explored territory.  He’s conquered the smaller man’s mouth countless times now but he’s never any less eager to do so again, relishing in the way their teeth clash when their want is too great, or the moans that growl from Cas’ throat into Dean’s own.  

When it ends they’re both breathless, pupils dilated, holding each other even harder than before to seek even more skin, even more friction.  

“I think I prefer American kisses,” Cas pants, voice wrecked, unable to drag his eyes from Dean’s spit-moistened bottom lip.

“Yeah, me too, Angel.”  

A rare, full-toothed smile appears across Cas’ stubbled face, ecstatic as always with his new-found nickname, and Dean feels his heart thud painfully in his chest in reply.  He rolls them over to pin the others lithe body underneath his own, smothering Cas in love, pouring it into him where their mouths meet and crash.  

He half-heartedly thinks that perhaps he should explain that these kisses are French, not American, but then calloused hands are grabbing at him, pulling him toward the hot, dark places that he adores, and Dean gets distracted. 

It can wait.  


End file.
